Devil May Never Die Again
by Eliot Wolf
Summary: Dante is ambushed, and murdered, by a demon under the authority of the strongest known to the world. But death won't stop the famous devil hunter, not when there's something to gain from it.


A long time ago, the demon knight Sparda rose above the demons, turning against them and freeing the human world. He locked the door between the demon world and the human world with only his power and his sword, an heirloom he would pass down to his sons. Throughout the ages, small demons have been slipping through the cracks of the gates of hell into our world. But now the problem is bigger, along with the demons that are coming through, and soon, the largest of them all will be able to freely pass from his world into ours.

_I gotta get a better job._

Dante stood there, covered in blood and god knows what else. He was staring down a horde of bugs that had come out of nowhere in the Devil May Cry building. They seemed to seep up from the floor boards and drip into the air, forming in the middle of the room.

He barely had time to plug the first fifty before they could see where he was. Then he barely had time to grab his sword and cut the next fifty down before they realized they were already under attack. Now here he stood, facing more bugs than this shop had seen customers. Dante raised his sword to rest on his shoulder and calculated his steps carefully, which took all of five seconds. Next, he commenced with the witty banter.

"Damn rotten timing. My extra strength bug zapper isn't supposed to come in until tomorrow. Oh well, guess I'm going to need the big boot." He took hold of Rebellion, the heirloom sword given to him by his father, and then proceeded to transform into a full-fledged demon, another one of his father's gifts passed to his sons. There stood the immortal demon that was Dante's true form, horns and wings galore. Then, in an echoed voice he said, "Say hello to the big boot."

He charged in to the fight and quickly dispatched another fifty with a sliding stab, a move that he had perfected in his years. The bugs were faster than Dante could remember. A long time ago he had fought some in a dungeon on an island somewhere; just another one of those things you see while demon hunting. But these ones seemed different. For one thing, they were all bees, but their legs were much longer, and their mouths resembled the lower half of an alligator's.

This, to his dismay, raised the question of who had sent these bugs. They weren't Vergil's type of creature – he preferred things along the humanoid level – and the creatures of Dumary Island had been destroyed, so they weren't from there.

One of the bugs decided to attack Dante from a blind spot, pointing its stinger directly at him. The buzzing of its wings alerted him, and he had to act quickly. He grabbed Ebony from its holster and, with his free left hand, pointed the gun straight at the tip of the bee's stinger. Right before the stinger got to Dante's gun he opened fire and quickly disintegrated the bee.

Now the bees were angry, but Dante was ready for any fight they could bring. They all decided to attack as one and came at him from all sides. They created a barrier around him with their swarming bodies, buzzing around him while others went in for the kill. He took this in stride by sheathing Rebellion safely on his back and pulling out Ivory. Now his twin guns were simultaneously pointed at every bee in the room, and so Dante opened fire just as the bees charged, All were shot down, a bullet a piece, quickly dissolving into coagulated blood and hardened shards of exoskeleton.

As the last of the bugs fell to the floor, Dante took a moment to appreciate his slaughter. "Not too bad if I do say so myself." He holstered his tools and looked onto the blood carpeting his wooden floor. He laughed a little, something that he never normally did, almost like the fight was harder than it should have been, or as if…

But while he was gloating, the blood started to pool behind him before dispersing into the air slowly. Out of the blood rose a dusty, white-cloaked figure, walking into this plane with the same casual movements as one would take walking a flight of stairs.

"Good morning, son of Sparda."

Dante turned around to face the man. His voice was so calm in the midst of all this bloodshed, with a sound that seemed to reverberate off every object in the room, making his single voice sound like millions. A feeling of lethargy swept over him, not to mention the sudden feeling like Dante was in a vacuum. The figure stood there, hands resting inside deep pockets in the full-length cloak.

The fabric was old and dingy with the stains of both time and blood. Some scattered holes were patched, but the way they were was unlike anything a human tailor could make. They blended almost perfectly into the fabric, but didn't look stressed with movement, as if they had been mended with the man still in them. In fact, the entire cloak had this feeling. The closeness of the thread around his bones and muscle gave the appearance of the cloak having been painted on.

"I trust that my colleague's minions were not too much of a trouble for you. But what 'minion' could be for the legendary son of Sparda," he asked with a grin, and a chuckle. "None, that's what." His voice. It came from everywhere at once, while still coming from him. "I just came to tell you that, no matter what you or any of your allies say, you are going to die today." He said this last part with almost a chuckle and a grin.

First, Dante saw a slight flicker in the room, as the cloaked man stared and smiled. Then he heard the sound of falling blood, and saw nothing more than a sinking room, the ceiling getting farther away, and his body crashing to the floor.

The distant, inaudible sound of nothingness rang in Dante's ears. The feeling of wind, slipping from cold to hot, fell over him. He tried to roll as his body fell, but try as he might he could not. He could feel the ground moving closer to him, and soon a numbness shot through him as he hit the ground.

His consciousness returned, and soon, a sharp pain spread from Dante's back. He rustled in his daze to hear the sound of small rocks littering the ground. He opened his eyes to a thick pain. With his eyes watering, he closed them tightly. The sulfurous heat that filled the air, blinded Dante momentarily. But when he was ready he forced his eyes open, a second time.

The walls around him were bathed in a red light, outlining long cracks and rigged edges. They seemed to go on forever upwards into the darkness. In the distance were the sounds of moaning, thousands of voices screaming in agony. He wasn't in his shop anymore; he had been snatched up before he could make a single quip. If he were a more obsessive person, he'd be an angrier person. But then, in the pit of agony that Dante felt, an old voice spoke up. "Hey kid, get up. You don't want to sacrifice what dignity you have left do you?"

Dante looked up. He saw a tall, white man, young features indiscernible with scars of time and experience. He looked down at Dante, one eye white and blind, the other old, dark, and wise. He was dressed in the same cloth as the man in the shop, yet these looked to have been strung together in a hurry, not like the care that went into his assailant's garments. The man offered Dante his hand. He took it, and then rose to his feet.

"There, now that you're on your feet, maybe you can join me on our way to eternal damnation." he said with almost a smile. He gestured down a long path, on which walked thousands of slumping figures, all dressed in the same clothes as this old stranger. The sides were patrolled by tall, hulking creatures with coal black skin, yellow horns, and blood red eyes devoid of life, and filled with hunger. "Well, my boy, are you going or not?"

For a second, Dante weighed his options. Then the moment passed, and he started moving towards the beasts. As he approached, with the old man following close behind, he yelled at the nearest of them. "Hey there, tall, dark, and foreboding. What is this place, huh?"

"WhAt WaS ThAt, WoRm?"

"You heard me. I want to know where I am. That, and where I can find the nearest manicurist, hair stylist, and tailor with a good supply of fabric."

"YoU WoN't FiNd AnY oF ThOsE ThInGs HeRe BoY! ThIs Is WhErE AlL gO To SeRvE tHeIr PuNiShMeNt. ThIs, iS WhAt YoU SuRfAcE dWeLleRs CaLl HELL!"

Dante momentarily lost it there. He had simply assumed that he was in another powerful, yet unimaginative, dominion of another demon trying to take the world hostage again. But the knowledge that here he was, standing in the midst of _their_ world, became quite real to Dante. "Oh. So I won't have to look hard." The quick kick to the beasts ribs was adequate enough to buy him time, though he didn't hit it as hard as he would have wanted. He turned to the old man mid flee and asked, "Coming?"

They both took off down the path, pushing the not so innocent populace out of their way. Behind them shouts could be heard over the clawed trampling of the guards giving chase. Soon, the two were standing in a large expanse. Tunnels from all directions were diverging to this spot. As Dante continued to run, the old man stood in rightful awe. There they were, standing in the entryway to damnation. The welcome all mortals fear. The Gates of Hell.

"Come on old man, they're gaining on us." Dante rushed back to him. He was babbling in disbelief. "What's the problem, Pops?"

"The Gate, my boy. This is 'The' Gate."

"Yeah, so?"

"Are you not afraid to accept your fate?"

"Accept? I'm not accepting anything. I'm only going in there so that I can get away from that big scaly guy. I don't plan on staying here any longer than I have to."

"You crazy idiot, don't you get it? We're here to be punished, and there's nothing that we can do to stop it."

"Yeah, you see, I never could stand punishment, even as a kid. I always slipped my way out, and let me tell you Pop's, old habits die hard."

"Then I guess I'll just have to kill you again," said the voice that came from everywhere.

Dante turned around, and saw him, the cloaked man from the shop. Behind him stood two of the demon guards, armed with axes instead of fists. "How befitting. The son is just as stubborn as his father." He paused a second to yawn. "Now my boy, are you going to come quietly, or are we going to have to carry you in pieces?"

"You can try your royal windbag. But frankly I don't give in too easily."

"Hmm, naturally. Guards, take him, I don't feel like it right now; and don't hold back. The king won't mind a little mess." The demons began to advance on Dante, and he could hear the old man behind him stumbling away. However, just before the guards were on top of him, Dante's victim of a guard showed up, with a Dante-sized foot impression in his chest.

"LoRd BelPhEgOr, I'm SoRrY tO InTeRuPt SiR."

Belphegor. Dante was mildly impressed. He had heard of the seven Lords of hell, each taking a different sin as their duty. The demon looked amused. "Not at all. I was just about to deal with this nuisance for Lord Lucifer."

"YoUr HiGhNeSs, MaY I TaKe CaRe oF ThE HuMan? I HaVe A sCoRe tO SeTtLe WiTh hIm."

Belphegor took some time to consider this, then smiled. "But of course. Do be sure to use as much force as necessary. After all, his punishment will be far worse than anything you could do." The guard gave what his broken, toothy mouth could make into a smile, then grabbed an axe from a guard standing next to him.

"You know, Mr. Scaly, this would be the point in the fight where I ask you if you're right with your maker. But, given the circumstances, that won't do."

"ShUt Up WoRm." He took a swing, which Dante easily avoided.

"I mean, take my swords, my guns, hell even my amulet, but don't deprive me of my fun." The demon took a stab, and Dante dodged that too. "I can't exactly justify my existence without some form of comedic relief." Another attempt, this time a stone shattering from the overhead swing. Dante simply ducked. "I guess, I'm just going to have to take it back from you the hard way." The demon swung low, so that Dante had to leap to avoid it. While in the air the kicked off a nearby stone to jump over and onto the back of the beast.

"WhAt – WhAt aRe yOU DoInG?" shouted the creature, swinging his arms to grab the demon hunter.

"Just making an adjustment. You have some nasty knots up hear, do you want me to remove them?" The Demon attacked Dante on his back with his hip blade, attempting to cut him from behind. "Yoink," uttered Dante as he swiped the blade. "Thanks Kong." He then began to slice at the skin around the guards neck, then down the sides of its spine. The sound of ribs cracking filled the cavern.

The demon guard was shocked at what was happening. The pain sent him to his knees and black foul blood slowly seeped across the stone floor. The demon was thrashing, but Dante wasn't on his back any more. He had walked to the front to face his victim. "There, now isn't that better?"

"W-W-WORM!" Then Dante planted his foot on the things shoulder, hands on each side of its head. With one hard yank, the head began to remove itself from the rest of the body. Then with another pull, most of the spine was removed, with the head still attached. Finally, Dante pulled the rest out of its place, dripping blood hitting the ground in sickening drops. "ThIs iS NoT tHe EnD wOrM… mY MaStEr WiLl sEe-" He was cut off… literally. Dante took the small blade in his hand and cut off the annoying head at the base.

"I don't like my weapons to talk." Then he placed the bony spine to rest on his shoulder, and stared at Belphegor. "Was that it?"

"Hmm, apperently so, seeing as he was the only volunteer."

"See, now you get what I'm saying. Humor can make bleak situations like this so much better."

"Yes, it really is the only enjoyment I get down here." He looked down at the black goo covering the floor. Then he lifted his head and revealed an inhumanly wide toothy grin. "I guess I'm going to have to suffer through a fight with you, half-demon." He rose and began walking towards the casually posed Dante. "Don't worry, I'll make this quick. No need for both of us to have to suffer."

"I'm already dead, what more can you do to me?" Then, the flicker. The same flicker from the shop, as if everything went black for a moment. He could hear a sickening splatter as his blood hit the stone floor.

"You'd be surprised what death enhances." The pain Dante was feeling, a complete evisceration through and through. He looked around for the Demon Lord, only to find him standing behind him with the evil smile on his face. "Aw, still not down? I guess a few extra minutes of mutual suffering."

_-Dante vs. Belphagor in the next chapter of Devil May Never Die Again_


End file.
